What if?
by Costas TT
Summary: As implied, these are partial rewrites of certain scenes from actual episodes of the series, so you'll be seeing a lot of familiar dialogue. Some for fun, others to cover plot holes and the like. All disclaimers apply. First Castle fic. Hope you enjoy it
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** There's no place better to begin than the first episode. This is another course things might have taken. I wrote it just for fun, because I couldn't get it out of my head. More episodes to follow as soon as my schedule allows. Without further ado…

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><p><strong>Flowers for your Grave<strong>

_He kissed me. Richard *freaking* Castle just kissed me. On the cheek, but it's still a kiss, right? Not only that, but he gave me an advance copy of his latest book. Maybe he's actually human under this bad boy thing he's got on. Pull yourself together, Kate, and get back to work_, Beckett thought. Then it came to her and the smile was wiped off of her face. He'd been looking at her case files! And he'd brazenly admitted it, too. "He didn't!" She scrambled to see if anything was missing. Indeed, some of the crime scene photographs and CSU reports were gone. He had taken them! Kate Beckett was beyond pissed now. The first thing she did was run to the precinct's entrance. She found no sign of Richard Castle in the street outside.

"I'll find him," she fumed. "And then I'm going to prosecute him to the fullest extent of the law. You fucked with the wrong gal, Mr. Castle, and now you're going to pay the price."

Of course, she had to find him first. He was famous, a bestselling author. His whereabouts were pretty much a matter of public record, so how hard could it be? She'd find him and make sure that his next bestseller would be written in a prison cell. There was one problem though: She couldn't very well put an APB out on him without risking either unwelcome publicity or interference from above, and probably both. No, she'd investigate on her own. Where would he go? Probably home, to enjoy the loot at leisure. So, Kate picked up her phone and dialed a number. It went straight to voicemail. This left her with just one more option and she took it, dialing another number.

"Hello?"

"This is Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD. Is Mr. Castle there?"

"No, he isn't. I'm his mother. Would you like to leave a message? I can pass it on."

"Thank you, but the matter can't wait."

"Hold on, did you say your name is Kate Beckett?"

"Yes."

"He called earlier saying he knew you'd be calling and left a message for you."

"I'm listening."

"He says he's sorry for what happened earlier, and asked me to tell you that he'll meet you back at the precinct. He'll explain everything and he thinks you'll understand."

"He's coming back here?" Kate asked incredulously.

"Dare I ask what the matter is, dear Detective Beckett? What has he done this time?"

"Let's just say that he'll be under arrest the moment he steps into the building."

"Oh boy, I'd better come over there to bail him out."

-o-

Kate was impatiently waiting for Castle to arrive. So far no one from the mayor's office had called demanding that Castle be left alone. She took it as a good sign. He hadn't stooped to having his highly placed friend help him out of the fix he got himself in. Then she saw him step out of the elevator.

"RICHARD CASTLE! You are under arrest for felony theft and obstruction of justice!" She held up her handcuffs.

"Ooh, bondage. My safe word is apples."

"Dad! Can't you take anything seriously?" The question came from the same teenaged redhead that Kate had seen at the book launch party she'd picked up Castle from the other night.

"It's OK, Alexis. Detective, please hear me out and then you're free to decide on how to proceed."

"I know that look of his, dear," Martha Rodgers added. "He's on to something juicy. And it's nice to finally meet you in person after talking to you on the phone, Detective."

"And I'm Alexis Castle, his daughter. You might have noticed me at the party the other night."

Talk about awkward. Kate was being formally introduced to, and shaking hands with, the mother and the daughter of the man she was hell bent on arresting. "Uh, hi," she offered lamely. "You have five minutes to convince me not to arrest you, Castle."

"I'll only need two," he replied cockily. "Kyle Cabot is innocent."

"But…"

"Yes, I know what you're going to say. I was there when you found the evidence, remember? But some things just don't add up. He never left a trace at the crime scenes, yet he sends me a letter with his prints all over it? Some may dismiss it as a byproduct of his delusions, that he believed I would not betray such a loyal fan. But I'm not convinced."

"Huh?"

"Strike two was the Pitney crime scene. Like I said there, the dress was blue in Death of a Prom Queen."

"Yes, I remember."

"Strike three were the forensic reports on the Fisk and Tisdale crime scenes."

Kate thought about it for a minute. "The selection of victims has bothered me, too. He starts with a murder of convenience, and then escalates to a murder of somebody he knows very well, and then goes back to a murder of convenience? It doesn't make any sense."

"They set up Kyle to take the fall," Castle continued. "Somebody who knew enough about his fixation with me to use it to get away with murder. That means we're not looking for a serial killer. We're looking for an old-fashioned murderer, someone with motive."

"You think the victims are somehow related?" Alexis piped up.

Castle shook his head. "No, the Police would have found it by now." Beckett nodded in agreement, and subtly encouraged him to continue. "No, if I were writing the story, the killer would have only wanted one of the victims dead. He would have killed the other ones just to cover up the crime."

"How do you get away with one murder by committing two more?" Alexis insisted. Ever observant, Beckett noticed how Castle had positioned his daughter. He had allowed her to sit with them, but from where she sat had no direct view of the murder board and the crime scene photos displayed on it.

"At one death, you look for motive. At two, you look for a connection. At three, you look for someone like Kyle. At three, you don't need motive, because mentally unstable serial killers usually don't have one."

"That makes about as much sense as Mousetrap," Martha spoke for the first time. "I did that play eight times a week for a year. I still have no idea what it's about." General laughter followed the statement.

"How are you so sure Kyle Cabot's been set up to take the fall for this?" Captain Montgomery asked.

"Kendra Pitney was the first clue," Castle replied. "The dress is the wrong color. And the roses on Alison's body were wrong, too. They were Grandiflora, not Hybrid Teas as in the book."

"Castle's right," Kate said. "If he was trying to follow his books, then the roses on Alison's body were wrong. And Fisk should have been suffocated by a plastic bag, not strangled with a necktie. And Kendra's dress would have been blue, not yellow. For an obsessive it would have been impossible not to get the details right." Castle was nodding in total agreement.

"Well, if it wasn't him, who was it?" Esposito asked the natural question.

Castle took the cue. "The killer had to have known both his intended victim and Kyle fairly well. The only victim that had any real knowledge of Kyle's obsessive condition would have been Alison Tisdale."

"Alison is the key," Kate agreed. "She's the one the killer is trying to hide."

"Well, as far as we know she wasn't seeing anyone and none of her other case files fit the profile," Esposito supplied.

"But someone had to know something about her," Beckett insisted.

"So, if the killer found out about Kyle through Alison, then Alison must have been the intended target. Somebody wanted Alison dead. I just have to figure out why," Castle mused.

"Whatever you do, work with Detective Beckett, Dad. If I have to keep bailing you out, which is what I originally came here for, you're going to have to raise my allowance. By a lot," Alexis said.

"Mine too," Martha added.

"I suppose it's too late to ask you to refrain from further interference with the case, Mr. Castle," Montgomery said.

"Sir," Beckett addressed her superior. "I no longer intend to file criminal charges against Mr. Castle."

"So, what are we going to do next?" Ryan asked.

"We have an advantage here. The killer doesn't know we caught on to his ploy. I suggest you keep holding Kyle, as a smokescreen."

"While shifting the focus of the investigation away from him and towards finding the real killer," Beckett finished the suggestion.

"Exactly. Well, it's getting kind of late and it's a school day tomorrow. Alexis has homework to do. Ladies and gentlemen, if you'll excuse us…" He shook hands with Montgomery and led his mother and daughter out of the bullpen and towards the elevator.

"Just don't do anything by yourself, Castle," Kate yelled just before the elevator doors closed. "And answer your phone next time I call you!"

This prompted him to check his phone. It was off and needed a recharging.

-o-

After the arrest of Harrison Tisdale…

Castle approached Kate from behind and cleared his throat to announce his presence. She turned to face him.

"Well, I guess this is it," she said.

"It doesn't have to be. We could go to dinner, debrief each other."

"Why, Castle? So I can be another one of your… conquests?" Kate smiled.

"Or I can be one of yours," he deadpanned.

She offered her hand. "It was nice to meet you, Castle."

He took it in a firm grip. "It's too bad. We would have been great."

She bit her lower lip and smiled wider. Then she stepped closer and whispered in his ear. "You have no idea." After that she went to rejoin her fellow officers and detectives, with a noticeable spring in her step.

Castle stood there watching her and then smiled before turning to walk away. His writer's block was a thing of the past now. He made his way home and began typing away on his trusty laptop.

He had been hard at work for a few hours. Then, it came to him while he was writing. He saved his work, grabbed his jacket and keys, told Alexis he was going out and went to get his car.

-o-

"What's he doing here?" Ryan asked Esposito when they spied Castle exiting the elevator.

"I don't know, bro, but I'm sure going to find out." He stood and went to greet the writer.

"Detective Esposito, hello. Is Detective Beckett here? I have some things I need to ask her about the case."

"She'll be right back. She went to check on some stuff before heading home."

"Good thing I caught her before she left, then. Do you mind if I wait for her here?"

"Be my guest."

"Thanks. By the way, do you know a restaurant she likes to go to?"

"Why?" Esposito asked suspiciously.

"Like I said, I have a few questions for her, regarding the case. I might as well buy her dinner while discussing them."

"Take her to Remy's." Esposito scribbled the address on a piece of paper and handed it to Castle. "She loves the burgers and shakes they have there."

"Thanks again." Then he spied Beckett and smiled.

"What are you doing here, Castle?"

"My offer for a debriefing dinner still stands. And I need to talk to you. I hear Remy's offer excellent burgers and shakes. My treat."

Kate Beckett hadn't realized how hungry she actually was, until the mere mention of Remy's offerings had her salivating. "OK. But remember, I'm carrying a gun, so don't try anything funny."

"Lead the way, Detective."

-o-

They made it to Remy's without incident and she led him to her usual booth. A waitress soon came to take their order. While waiting for their food, Castle launched the conversation. "I was at home writing when it came to me… Given my active participation in the case, is it possible that I will be called to testify in Harrison's trial?"

"I never thought of that," she admitted. "But it's possible, especially given how much you're mentioned in the reports. After all, you helped with the investigation and you also helped arrest Harrison Tisdale. Plus, I don't think the prosecutor will pass up the opportunity to have a celebrity testify, if only to impress the jury."

"You answered my biggest question, Detective Beckett. Thank you."

"You are welcome. But apparently you have other questions you want to ask me."

"Yeah, but they're more about police procedures. It's for my new novel."

She smiled. "Ask away." Little did she know about her being the inspiration for his new main character or what was about to transpire. But she would find out in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** First of all, I'd like to thank you for the comments, favorites and alerts. To a newcomer in the Castle category it means a lot. This chapter is not a rewrite, but a tag based on something seen in the episode. Hope you like it.

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><p><strong>A Chill Goes Through Her Veins<strong>

The silence in the archive room was almost deafening to Richard Castle. They had just closed two cases, but at what cost? Would the DA prosecute Melanie's father for Sam's murder, or would he declare the evidence too circumstantial? He understood what Kate was going through, and fervently hoped for the latter option. But she had just been doing her job. She couldn't turn a blind eye, no matter how much she wanted it. She had to uphold the law. But he could make it better for her. He knew what he could do. He closed her mother's file and went to the bullpen, where he found her doing some paperwork.

"Are you done here?"

"Almost," she replied. "Why?"

"Because right now you are in dire need of a distraction and I just happen to know the ideal one. Hurry up and finish. And then you'll come with me."

He toyed with his phone while waiting for her to finish, having to work hard to keep a mischievous smile off his face. Finally, she put down her pen and turned off her computer. "Done," she said.

"Excellent." He held her coat for her to put on and before she could stop him he grabbed her car keys. "I'll drive. Come on."

"But…"

"No buts, Detective," he said firmly. "Just relax and enjoy the ride. Of course, more fun will follow."

"Where are you taking Beckett, Mr. Castle?" Montgomery asked, standing near his office.

"I'm going to show her a good time, Captain. Don't worry, her virtue will be respected," Castle replied. "I'm not sure about her pride, though," he added.

"Wha-what?"

He laughed at her wide-eyed look. "You'll see."

Just as the elevator doors closed behind them, they could hear Montgomery, Esposito and Ryan chuckling. She was halfheartedly protesting being taken away from work, even though she had nothing left to do. And, despite all her pestering and threats, he wouldn't tell her what he'd planned for the evening.

"What are we doing at your place, Castle?" Beckett asked as they took the elevator to his loft.

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you. But I can tell you that we'll have the place to ourselves for a few hours. Alexis is at a friend's and my mother called and said she'll be home late tonight, leaving the coast clear for us."

"Castle, I'm warning you, if this is all about getting me…"

He cut her off. "I promised Montgomery that your virtue will be respected, Kate. Unless of course you don't want it to be respected," he said, wagging his eyebrows.

"Oh, grow up, Castle!"

"Where's the fun in growing up?"

"Okay, we've established that you are not going to make a pass at me, which brings us back to my original question: Why did you bring me here?"

"There are two parts in the answer to your question, Detective. Part one is dinner. I'm starving and I'm pretty sure you're hungry as well."

"I could eat," she admitted.

"Splendid. Take a seat, my dear Detective. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Um, OK?"

"I think a bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape will be appropriate for the occasion. It would definitely complement the meatloaf."

"You're going to make meatloaf?"

"No, my mother made it. I'll just warm it up for us. But I will make the salad."

"That I have to see," she declared.

"Then take a seat and watch," he said cockily as he handed her a glass of wine.

In the end, Kate had to admit that dinner had been delicious. She took another sip from her freshly refilled glass and looked intently at Castle. He was whistling a tune while loading the dishwasher. Once again, she let her eyes wander around the loft. This time, it struck her as homey as well as luxurious. His voice snapped her out of her thoughts.

"I'm done here. Therefore, we can move to the main part of tonight's entertainment."

"What do you have in mind, Castle?"

"You'll see," he replied cryptically.

"Tell me," she insisted.

"In a minute." He disappeared upstairs, returning almost immediately with a couple of boxes. "Choose your color."

"Excuse me?"

"You have a choice between blue and green."

"I'll take blue, but what is it all about?"

"Ta-da!" He opened one of the boxes and she saw it contained a laser tag vest, headgear and gun.

"Laser tag? Seriously?"

"Come on, Detective, it'll be fun. It's the perfect way to let out some steam." He held the gear with the blue lights out for her.

"Okay, fine. Besides, I've been dying to kick your ass, Castle."

"Don't be so sure, Detective. I'm pretty good at this."

"How are we going to do it?"

"We'll start at opposite ends. You can start in my office. I'll go upstairs and come back down."

"Already putting yourself at a disadvantage, Castle? You'll be a sitting duck on the stairs."

He grunted a noncommittal reply.

Kate didn't know about the surround sound system he had in his office and living room, so his voice startled her.

"You may run, Rebel, but you can't hide from the forces of Voltar. I will rule the Omniverse. MUAHAHAHAHAHAAA!"

"Really, Castle? Can't you get any more childish?"

Apparently, the distraction worked, for he vaulted over the banister and landed on the living room floor, taking cover behind the couch before crawling to hide behind the kitchen counter. Kate carefully opened the door of the office and visually swept the place, laser gun leveled and ready. She had barely managed to take three steps, however, when …

_Bzzzt! BLEEP!_

Her webbing lights flashed brightly and went out.

"Voltar wins!"

"How… how did you get from up there to down here without me seeing you?"

"I have my skills," he replied casually. "Care for another round?"

"Yes. How do you reset this?"

"Allow me." He moved to her and pressed a button to reset her laser tag gear. "Right now it's one to nil. And I must say that I'm not particularly impressed, Detective."

"Just for this, I'm not just going to beat you in the next few rounds, Castle. I'm going to humiliate you."

"Promises, promises," he mocked.

A few minutes later…

"Writer two, detective nil," Castle gloated.

"You got lucky! I want another round!"

Third round…

"Ha! Nailed you!" Kate laughed.

"You're still one down."

"Give it time... Voltar."

Round four…

"I can sense the fear in you…"

"Castle, stop playing Darth Vader."

"You're taking this way too seriously, you know that?" Castle asked, popping up from behind the couch.

"There you are!" She shot a beam in his direction, but he managed to duck it. "Dammit! I'll get you!"

-o-

They were still at it when Martha and Alexis returned home. In fact, they met at the lobby downstairs. They took the elevator and Martha unlocked the door when they got to the loft. The sight that greeted them was one to behold. Richard Castle and Katherine Beckett, in laser tag gear, duking it out in the living room.

"Richard!" Martha exclaimed. "What's going on in here?"

He was in the act of turning to reply when Kate zapped him. "That was not fair," he protested.

"Nonetheless, I got you good, Castle." Then she saw Martha and Alexis at the door and blushed beet red.

"So, what's the score?" Alexis asked.

Castle pushed his goggles up. "I'm still ahead by three points."

"You looked like you were having fun."

"After the case we just closed, we needed to unwind."

"It's getting late. I should be going," Kate said and began removing her gear.

Castle followed suit. "I'll walk you to your car."

"No need, Castle. See you tomorrow."

"Until tomorrow, then."

-o-

"Well, Castle, how did it go with Beckett last night?" Esposito asked when Castle entered the bullpen.

"Like I promised the Captain, I respected our delectable detective's virtue. But I think her pride is still hurting a little."

"Why, what did you do?" The question came from Ryan this time.

Before Castle had a chance to reply, Beckett came in. "Hey Castle, you're here early."

"You never know when a nice murder may come your way, Detective. I brought you coffee, by the way."

"Thanks," she said, taking the proffered paper cup. Then the team settled down for another day at work.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** This is the first attempt to address what I perceived to be a plot hole in one of the episodes. Also worth mentioning is that the chapters here won't be in any particular order. I write as the inspiration strikes me. Without further ado…

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><p><strong>The Double Down<strong>

"_You take our murder, we'll take yours."_ It was amazing how a simple phrase would provide an unexpected solution to not one, but two frustrating murder investigations. It also proved how invaluable – and amazing – Richard Castle's ability to think outside the box was. The two suspects might have solid alibis for the murders they were originally suspected of, but with the crisscross twist their alibis for the killings they were now suspected of were as squishy as a warming apple. The Hudson River water was another link. But it wasn't enough.

"Except it's all circumstantial. The DA will never buy it without hard evidence or a confession," Kate said.

"Oh, we're gonna get a confession," Esposito said cockily.

Castle and Beckett exchanged meaningful looks. "Not if we get one first," he countered.

"So… bet's back on," Ryan concluded.

"You bet your breeches the bet is back on," Kate said aggressively, going almost nose to nose with the Irishman.

They were beginning to walk away when inspiration struck Castle again. "Hard evidence!"

"What do you mean, Castle?"

"You said we'll need hard evidence."

"Yes. That, or a confession."

"We have all the hard evidence we need right in front of us. It's been there all the time! Call Ryan and Esposito off! Tell them not to bring in Eric for questioning, at least not yet."

"Guys, hold on! Come back here!"

"What is it, Beckett?"

"Lay off Eric Marks, for now."

"What, are you afraid we'll win the bet?"

"No, we've already won the bet. We just don't want you to blow it," Castle replied smugly.

"You won? How?"

"Let me direct your attention to the photos from the first crime scene. The killer wrote on Ashley Cosway to throw us off and make us believe he was mentally unstable."

Kate caught on immediately. "You mean Eric Marks wrote on Ashley after killing her."

"Exactly. They couldn't anticipate that we would eventually catch on to their admittedly ingenious scheme. All we have to do is get our hands on a sample of Marks' handwriting. Then, an expert can compare it to the writing on Ashley's face. Bam, said the lady, we'll have a solid connection of a suspect to a crime. Then the whole murder pact will be so much easier to sell to a jury."

"I'll get right on it," Kate said. "Eric Marks may have filled in forms and stuff for the investigation. If not, I'm sure we can easily find samples to compare to the writing on Ashley's body."

Castle turned to Esposito and Ryan with a predatory grin on his face. "Gentlemen, I believe we won the bet and then some. Not only did we solve our murder first, but we actually solved both murders."

"Don't count your chickens yet, Castle."

"Ryan, my good man, mere formalities are all that's left. Marks wouldn't have bothered to disguise his handwriting, since he and Jason Cosway didn't expect to be connected to the victims they actually murdered."

-o-

"The forensic expert's report just came in," Kate said, brandishing a file.

"What does it say?"

She opened it and paused for effect. "It's a match. We can place Eric Marks in Ashley Cosway's office."

Ryan and Esposito couldn't look any more crestfallen. They had lost the bet big time and they knew it. Castle and Beckett were too busy tying the case with a bow for the prosecutor to gloat – yet. A uniform approached them and told them that they had Eric Marks in Interrogation Room 1.

"What is this all about?" Marks asked when they entered. "The officers that brought me here didn't say."

"You killed Ashley Cosway, Mr. Marks," Beckett said bluntly.

"While Jason Cosway killed your father-in-law, just like the two of you had agreed," Castle added. "Or did you think we wouldn't find out eventually?"

"No, I…"

"Save it, Eric. We have enough evidence to fry you."

"That's right. We have your handwriting on the victim. We have trace evidence of Hudson River water on Mrs. Cosway's body. We know you and Jason take the same water taxi to work every day, which is how it got on you and you transferred it to her when you struggled. The same trace evidence, I might add, that your co-conspirator left on your father-in-law when he took his watch and wallet, trying to make it look like a random mugging. And I doubt you have an alibi for Mrs. Cosway's murder. All in all, we've got you by the short and curlies."

"Any jury would convict you on the evidence we have. Remember, New York is a death penalty state and it's an election year. So, do yourself a favor and start talking. If you cooperate, we'll make sure the DA learns of it."

Eric Marks looked lost. He and Jason Cosway had never even foreseen the possibility of someone seeing right through their ploy. Beckett prodded him a little more. "How are you going to play your cards, Eric?"

"It was his idea. Jason came up with it. He said we'd never get caught."

Beckett simply pushed a confession form and a pen in Eric's direction. "Write it all down."

-o-

The cases were closed. They had Marks' confession and he'd implicated Cosway in the whole deal. The latter had also confessed in an effort to cut a deal. Only one thing had to be taken care of: the small matter of the bet. The other officers in the precinct who had bet on Castle and Beckett had already collected their winnings. Now, the dynamic crime fighting duo of detective and writer were going to collect what was owed them. They cornered Esposito and Ryan in the break room.

"Time to pay up, boys," Beckett said.

The sullen partners each handed over fifty bucks.

"Thank you gentlemen," Castle said smiling, relieving them of their money.

"So, Castle, which one of them is going to shave his head and which one is going to wear the dress to the precinct for a week?"

"I don't know, Beckett. Should we leave it up to them?"

"Works for me," she smiled. "Come on, Castle."

The moment Castle and Beckett left the break room, Esposito turned to his partner. "No way I'm wearing a dress to the precinct. I'd rather shave my head. Besides, the dress was your idea, Honey Milk."

"Fine. But you will shave your head. I don't want to be the only one humiliated here."

-o-

Castle and Beckett were at her desk, occasionally being congratulated by those smart enough to bet on them.

"Would you like your share now, Detective?"

"It's as good a time as any, Mr. Castle," she replied.

"OK." He took the money out and prepared to split it. "Huh. The bet was for fifty bucks originally, but they each paid us fifty."

"You don't think they were hoping we'd take pity on them, do you?"

"Well, for an extra twenty-five I'm open to ignoring the second part of the bet, Beckett. What about you?"

"Let them stew for a while. After all, the humiliation thing was their idea. Me, I'd have just upped the ante."

"I like the way you think."

"Thanks. And, Castle?"

"Yes?"

"Next time, consult with me first before agreeing on amendments to a bet."

"Count on it."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** This one is also a partial rewrite, as the way the evidence was handled and interpreted in the original episode left too many unanswered questions to me. Hope you enjoy it. By the way, this is it for now. I may add more chapters, if I find something worthy of pursuing, so it may be revisited some point in the future. Thank you all for reading and for the support you provided.

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><p><strong>The Fifth Bullet<strong>

Finding the murder weapon in Amnesiac Jeremy's apartment had definitely been an unexpected twist. It had also raised a hell of a lot of questions, so Castle and Beckett were at the morgue with Lanie, trying to make sense out of things. Lanie had just finished explaining that it was possible for Jeremy to have been the shooter, based on abrasions on Victor Fink's wrists.

"I don't buy it," Castle declared. "It doesn't make sense. Every scenario I'm creating in my head, based on the evidence we have, tells me a different story."

"What do you mean, Castle?"

"Jeremy was shot in the chest, right?"

"Correct."

"And Fink was shot in the back."

"Yes, running away from the killer."

"The only sequence of events that makes sense is that Jeremy was shot first."

"Uh-uh," Kate nodded.

"The bullet's impact would have sent him flying backwards and he would have hit his head."

"He has the bump to prove it," Lanie agreed.

"So, if he had the gun, if he and Fink wrestled for it and Fink managed to turn the gun around and it went off, Jeremy would have gone down fast."

"Especially after hitting his head," Lanie nodded.

"Exactly. I doubt if he could have recovered fast enough to fire off four rounds at Fink." He paused for effect. "Lanie, can you tell from the bullet entry angles if the shooter was standing or lying on the floor?"

"He was most definitely standing."

"Then Jeremy couldn't have killed Fink. There was a third person in the gallery and he shot both Fink and Jeremy."

"But the evidence…" Kate began.

"Hear me out, Beckett. If I were to write the scene, Jeremy would be on the ground unconscious while Fink was being shot twice in the back, two more shots going wild. Then, the killer, possibly believing he'd killed both of them, would have placed the gun in Jeremy's hand. When he regained consciousness, and in a fugue state, like Dr. Holloway said, he would have gone back to his apartment and put the gun in the desk drawer before going out again and ending up near the gallery."

Kate and Lanie looked at each other and then back at Castle in bewilderment.

"I have another take on the scene, too. The real killer went to Jeremy's apartment and planted the gun there."

"Nice theory, Castle, but how do we prove it?"

"We reassess the evidence. Lanie, CSU found gunshot residue on Jeremy's coat. Have them redo the tests, focusing on the area around the bullet hole and the sleeves. Surely, if the gun was fired five times, the concentration of residue on his sleeves would be consistent with it. But if the concentration on the coat is small enough to have come from a single shot…"

"It only proves that he was shot at close range," Kate finished the thought.

"Precisely."

"Say your theory is confirmed. What next?"

"Run the gun for prints. If I'm right, the killer might have wiped it down, further reinforcing my theory. Or, we could get lucky and find prints on the magazine and/or the unfired bullets."

"I'll get right on it," Kate said and excused herself to make the call. Lanie also picked up the phone.

-o-

Beckett replaced the phone receiver on its cradle and looked at Castle with an awed expression on her face.

"Well?"

"You were right on all counts."

"Then Jeremy is not our killer."

"Not according to CSU, Lanie and Doc Holloway. I'll have Jeremy processed out."

"Don't do that yet. Ryan, does Jeremy have a lawyer?"

"He's with him right now."

"Let's go."

-o-

"Hey guys," Jeremy greeted them. "Have you found out why I did it?"

"Mr. Preswick," his lawyer objected, but he cut him off.

"I want to know."

"The short version is that you didn't do it," Castle said.

"We took another look at the evidence. It just doesn't add up," Beckett added.

"Really?"

"Really. And you have Castle to thank for it. He was the one who noticed the discrepancies. Apparently, there was a third person in the gallery with you and Fink and he or she was the shooter."

"It was a he, most likely, since he managed to overpower Fink," Castle said. "I believe he shot you first, then struggled with Fink and ended up shooting him, too."

"Then my client is free to go."

"Yes, he is. But Castle has a suggestion to make."

"I don't want to tip our hand just yet. It's better to have the real killer believe we still consider Mr. Preswick to be our prime suspect."

"This place is not bad," Jeremy nodded. "I could stay a while longer."

"You may not have to. I'm sure we can sneak you out."

"And where would I go?"

"Hmm, I never thought of that. Hey, we could call your ex, see if she can take you in for a couple of days until we get it all sorted out," Castle suggested.

"I wouldn't want to impose on her."

"Well, there's no harm in asking."

As it turned out, they couldn't reach Emma Carnes, Jeremy's ex. But they found her in Jeremy's apartment, collecting Lucy's stuff. With Jeremy under arrest, she had custody of the dog now. They had gone there to see if there had been anything they might have missed the last time. Her presence was fortuitous, because she helped unravel the mystery of the reason behind Jeremy's visit to Fink's gallery.

"By the way, we were trying to reach you earlier, but you weren't at home."

"We have something important to tell you, but with your revelation about the painting and all we didn't get the chance," Castle added.

"I'm listening."

"We were wondering if you could take Jeremy as well as Lucy in for a few days."

"You lost me there."

"Allow me to explain," Beckett said. "We went over the evidence and it seems that someone tried to frame Jeremy for Fink's murder."

Emma was visibly relieved. "I'll be glad to help."

"Good. I'll call my partners and have them sneak Jeremy to your place. To all intents and purposes, he's still the suspect."

"You don't want to tip off the real killer."

-o-

The fake painting pointed back to Fink and the forgeries he was dealing in. From there it was a simple matter to connect the dots and have another chat with Mr. Harun. The information the diplomat provided led them straight to the real killer: Fink's new assistant, George, who went by the name of Darius Langley.

The case closed, Jeremy and Emma, along with Lucy, came to the precinct to pick up the painting. The three cops and the writer hoped they would have a happy life together, as the chemistry between the formerly married couple was obvious. A few months later, they all received invitations to the wedding of Jeremy Preswick and Emma Carnes.


End file.
